Red
by screwlove.screwlife
Summary: They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. But how could anybody see if there was a soul left in those dark and clouded eyes of her's?


**Warnings: **_Drug Use, Explicit Language, Possibly Gore._

**Author's Note: Long time no write, eh? Anyway, this story & its plot bunnies have been bugging me for months now. So I decided to finally get down to it and start writing. This chapter has actually taken a few weeks, even if it is crappy quality, so don't expect instant updates.**

**Disclaimer: I don't, and never will own the Far Cry franchise, which rightfully belongs to Ubisoft. I only own my characters Jordan, the druggie, Sam, the stud, Shaun, the cheeky asshole, and Manny, the perverted captain.**

**Anyway, feedback on this story means that I might continue it - not too sure at this point.**

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"_Cops! Shit, there's cops, man!" "Well run faster you moron!" Panting and the heavy thumps of their boots following behind her was the only thing that assured that they were still with her. That they were still together. "How the hell did the cops find us?" Sam asked, struggling to keep up despite having the longest legs of the three. "I don't know, why don't you stop and fucking ask them?" Shaun snapped, grunting as he shifted the heavy backpack hanging on his shoulders – while continuing to sprint as fast as his legs could take him. "Enough! Shaun where the hell is that guy you hired?" She snaps, muscles burning and aching as she continues to push herself to top speeds – the sirens that continue to gain volume being her main motivator._

_"__He said he'd be here-" "Well he's not apparently!" Sam butted in, as they approached the end of the alley way they had flew through – the sight of the harbour making them slow down for a few seconds. __**Where is he? **__Her eyes gaze all around them, before catching sight of a familiar looking flag- well, not even a flag. It's one of Sam's t-shirts being used as one. "There!" She calls, before booking it down the docks – the guys struggling to keep up. Hopping off of the dock and into the back of the boat, her knees buckle underneath her finally – but before she knows what's going on, she's being dragged down into the boat, the hatch door slamming closed behind her._

The soft fluttering of waves lapping against the boat lulled her deeper into her state of peace, eyelashes brushing against the apples of her cheeks, as her pink lips rested in a content smile. Parting her lips, smoke rose past them; swirling through the air gently. A giggle came from her, as she slowly cracked open her copper brown eyes – hazy from the fumes she had inhaled so eagerly.

Weed. Marijuana. Pot. Hash. Reefer. Whatever the fuck you called, she was only eager to share it and a good time with you. Lifting the joint slowly back to her lips as her eyes slid closed, to take a slow, sweet drag of it – savouring every bit she could take in. Her head was lost in a sea of haze, everything seemed so much.. _laid-back_ now – like she was flying in her own state of nirvana.

"Jo...! ...an! J...n! _Jordan!_" sadly, her state of peace was broken – as her eyes peeled open from underneath her sunglasses, eyeing the dark-skinned newcomer with a lazy grin. "Ssaaamm..?" she dragged the name out in reply, sounding unsure of whether she was addressing him by the right name – to which he nodded, making her confidence flow once again. "Sam! Sup, Sammy?" she chirped, eyes slowly drifting from his face to stare at his red muscle shirt. "Your shirt.. is.. _red_!" giggling slightly, as she leaned back in the chair once again.

"Your swimsuit is also red," he pointed out dryly, his eyes raking over her chest appreciatively – her only covering being a red bandeau style bikini top and black board shorts. "You're fucking baked, Jordan – like seriously," to prove his point, he waved a large hand in front of her face – causing her to once again giggle and grin wider in amusement. "_You're funny!~_" he only shook his head, reaching to pull the joint from her fingers – eyeing the substances sitting around her. An empty vodka bottle sat by her feet, a half bottle of rum sitting in her lap from where she sprawled sideways in the chair – her legs hanging over the side of it laxly.

As if sensing where his gaze landed, she pulled the bottle to her chest – smirking at him and waggling her finger as if scolding him. "You don't get any _unless _you give me my fucking joint back~" waiting for him to pass it back, as her legs swayed off the edge – she was going to get back her fucking joint if he liked it or not. "Not happening, I don't need to drag your baked ass around the boat." Rolling her eyes, as she slowly got up – her grin slowly turning threatening as she flexed her hand, in a 'hand it over' gesture. "Don't be an asshole and give me back my joint, Sam."

"You're not getting it back," he stated, as if to prove his point he flicked his wrist, releasing his hold on it – sending it flying through the air, and over the side of the boat. Eyes narrowing, her grip on the rum bottle tightened – as Sam seemed to smirk in accomplishment. "You're a fucking dick." she growled, as he came to stand beside her – both watching over the side of the boat, trying to locate the joint in the endless water below.

Catching sight of Sam reaching for her rum, she raised her arm with a devious and knowing smirk – whipping the bottle over her head, over the side, and into the waters a ways away, where it disappeared with a _splash!_ _"How do you like them apples, Samuel?!_" she smirked wickedly, uncaring of how this affected her – Jordan knew where the captain kept his stock. And that old pervert would be more than willing to share with her.

"Why would you do _that?!_ Come on, Jordan! That was the _last fucking bottle!"_ The taller male turned to her, his expression screaming irritation and disbelief. "Well that was my _last fucking joint_, and payback's a bitch, isn't she?!" Even if Jordan was considered tall among women, apparently that didn't count here. Only coming up to about his chest, his looming stature didn't stop her from giving him a piece of her mind.

"You didn't need it!" He argued. "Well _you _didn't need it _either!_" She countered, glaring up at him. Sam returned the look with hesitation. "_Holy shit_, the sexual tension in here is _intense!"_ Both heads whipped to the right, angry gazes landing on the third member of their team. "Shut up, Shaun!" Jordan snapped, although her cheeks did heat slightly. "Yeah, shut up!" Sam agreed, before the two turned and glared at each other.

"Can you guys like fuck and get this out of the way already? I mean seriously." Shaun laughed as Jordan flashed him the middle finger, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. With an angry grumble, Jordan stomped off, heading towards her bow of the ship. Meanwhile, Shaun parked his ass in her abandoned seat – lighting up a cigarette as he did. Glancing up, only to catch Sam watching the woman walking away – Shaun grinning shamelessly as he too watched, specifically the swaying of her hips. "I'd tap that."

An irritated grumble was Sam's answer, as Shaun laughed quietly to himself. Nursing his beer, (conveniently hidden within his water bottle so he wouldn't have to share), as he reclined in his seat. Pretending not to notice Sam sneak away after Jordan, as the green eyed member of the trio relaxed – gaze lazily roaming the skies, before his attention was caught. Brows furrowing together, as he noted the dark shadow of storm clouds brewing from the northwest. "Hey, Manny!" He called out.

"What?" Came the snapped reply, as a greasy looking man poked his head out of the captain's quarters. "I thought you said it was going to be an easy ride." Scratching at his gut idly, as Manny gave the younger male a sceptic look. Giving a groan, as Shaun pointed out the swirl of angry clouds out to the clueless older man. "_That_ doesn't look _easy_." He muttered, swishing his drink in its container distractedly before taking a sip. He was going to crash if this idiot didn't stop being such a waste of money. And nobody liked Shaun when he crashed. _Nobody_.

"Tides change, buddy. And I'm gonna have to charge you extra for lifejackets." "Fuck you, Manny."

_"__We made it.." For a few seconds, she lays on the ground – open mouthed and wide eyed, as if she's trying to imitate a fish. Then the voice registers. Sitting up quickly, she's nearly flat on her back again from the wave of dizziness that hits her. "We fucking made it." Sam doesn't seem to believe the words that leave his own mouth, as he sits there and grins stupidly. "Yeah... Yeah we did." Shaun murmurs, before lighting up a cigarette and holding it to his lips for a victory drag. Releasing the smoke from his lungs, before he pounds a fist against the wall. "Eh, Manny! Let's hurry the fuck up and go before the po-po decide to drop in, eh?" A few curses in a language even unknown to her is all she hears, before a rough looking man pushes open the door, pinning Shaun with an unamused look. Black dreadlocks that look like they haven't been washed for quite a while, a five o' clock shadow, and bags under his eyes – Manny is your typical asshole captain._

_Who has a habit of hitting on girls half his age. Herself being an example. "You hired me to get you out of here, not be your fucking personal captain, you little-" Stopping as his worn blue eyes land on her, from where she's sitting oh so elegantly on the ground, and a cheesy looking grin crosses his face. "You didn't tell me that you were bringing a lady on board my ship-" "Her? A lady?" Sam snorts, causing the only female of the group to flip him the bird. "Oh fuck off, Sam." He only grins cheekily, his white teeth a stark contrast to his chocolate coloured skin. How she found that attractive she didn't understand. "Okay lovebirds- Let's get this show on the road already, Manny. Before I cut your pay." And now cue a rude hand gesture from Manny to the blonde leader._

"Are you still pissy about that fucking joint?" Fiddling with the lid of the small pill bottle, as she continued to ignore the voice speaking to her. "Jordan? Are you even listening to me?" Finally getting the fucking cap off, as the pills were dumped into the eagerly awaiting hand. Somewhere in her hazy brain, she realized she had too many – as she carefully dropped the extras, one by one, back into their container. "So you're ignoring me. _Real mature, _Jordan." Tilting back her head, as her lips parted without hesitation – and with a flick of her wrist, the tiny white capsules were dumped past her pretty pink lips.

Swallowing them dry, before a deep breath was taken – filling her lungs, just like her craving for more. "You're really one to talk about mature, Sammy." Jordan drawled, spinning in her chair – twirling a dark lock of hair between her fingers. Lips quirked up in a sexy little smirk, as she watched him with dark eyes – making him frown. It never seemed fair when Jordan used those eyes against him. "You're trouble," He muttered, holding onto either arm of her chair and leaning down to brush his lips against her own gently.

"You like it." She murmured lowly, nuzzling her lips against his – tongue slipping out and grazing along his lips. That earned her a husky groan, as his large hands pulled her closer – bruising their lips together in a sloppy kiss. Sam didn't exactly have the patience for teasing. His one hand on the back of her head, fingers entangled in her hair as he forced their mouths together – while the other gripped at her lower back, dragging her up so he fit perfectly between her legs. A pleased little hum within her chest made her grip the front of his shirt a fraction tighter, her other arm looped around his neck – fingers massaging at his scalp as their lips moved against each other in a fevered frenzy.

His fingers teasingly slipped under the back of her shirt, tracing circles with his warm digits. Causing another sound of appreciation to escape her, nibbling his lower lip teasingly in return. Breaking liplock, as Sam's lips seared down her neck – nipping and tasting, leaving a hot trail in his wake. "S-Sam..-" "Guess who just got us all lifejackets- Whoa, holy fuck!" Both gazes snapping upwards, as they landed on the blonde member of the team. "Get the fuck out!" Jordan screeched, throwing the closest item she could grab at him. "Learn to lock the door!" Shaun exclaimed. "_Learn to knock!_"

There was no longer any rays of heat to warm up her sunkissed skin, all Jordan could feel was the cold wind that rocked the boat roughly – making her slam against the wall of her quarters as she tried to warm up under the thin blankets of the uncomfortable cot. She hated Shaun for choosing such a crappy vessel- it wasn't _even _a vessel, it was a _shitty _little fishing boat with a captain who wouldn't keep his hands to himself. Goddammit, if she didn't love Shaun like a brother and wasn't being chased by the cops for making one of the biggest drug deals of all time – there would be no way anyone could get her on this piece of crap.

After smashing her head particularly painfully against the wall, Jordan wasn't up for games anymore – she was going to see what the hell was going on upstairs. Those fucking idiots were probably just screwing around, making this hellish trip even worse. With a grunt, the brunette managed to untangle herself from the blankets – before making her way for the ladder, nearly skidding into a wall as the boat rocked uneasily once more. It seemed like her stomach was doing somersaults to the movement of the ship. Oh god. She was gonna puke if this kept up. And this is why she stuck to the Ferris wheel at festivals, _Sam_.

Oh god this was awful. Practically dragging herself up the stairs, belly skimming one or two as she crawled miserably along. This was awful. She swore to God, this was worse than _any _hangover. And Jordan had _plenty _of experience with bad hangovers, trust in that. Slamming her hand against the wall to keep herself from tipping over, she had to question if Manny was really this shitty of a captain or if he didn't know what he was doing. Hopefully he was just a really shitty captain, because she'd rather not be picked up by the coast guard and dumped in prison. Again. She hated that fucking hellhole.

Finally finding some semblance of balance, as she gripped the doorknob – twisting and shoving the heavy-as-fucking-hell door open. Jesus Christ, why the hell did a dingy like this have a solid iron door? Something told her that Manny had done jobs like this before. Setting a wobbly foot onto the littered floor of the "commander centre" of the boat, as Jordan so fondly dubbed it, before her accusing eyes landed on the three stooges arguing behind the wheel. "What the hell is going on?!-" Her voice was cut off by a giant roar of thunder, the entire sky lighting up a brilliant white – before darkening to near black almost immediately. Standing shellshocked, as Sam, Manny, and Shaun all stared back before Shaun grinned. "Oh great you're up! Now come here and put on this life jacket." Might Jordan add, that his fucking grin was _extremely_ out of place aboard this roughly rocking piece of crap in the middle of a fucking hurricane.

Why couldn't she of just stayed sleeping? Or drunk. Drunk would have been nice.

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**So flashbacks are in italics if you didn't understand. Anyway. Kind of ended off awkwardly, but it's only the first chapter, right? Don't worry, there'll be action, injury, & probably some canon characters in the next chapter. And this story will contain a ton of OCs if you didn't realize.**

**But if you've enjoyed this chapter, please leave a review :)**

**EDIT: Fanfiction apparently won't let me add characters to my story..? Apparently I'm disliked already lol.**


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